Wednesday, October 31, 2007

They just voted Sabrina Bryan (one of the Cheetah Girls) off of Dancing with the Stars. She was the best dancer on the show. Are you telling me that America thinks that Marie Osmond is better than Sabrina!?!?!? Hellz Nawww. In my mind, the finale was going to be Sabrina vs. Mel B. (Scary Spice / Eddie Murphy's baby mama). But no, America ONCE AGAIN votes all crappy and this kind of stuff happens. The judges are at fault too though, they judged her harder than the other people (i.e. - Marie Osmond) because they knew how good she was. This girl made me want to learn how to ballroom dance, she effin rocks. And the fact that she wasn't uber-skinny was refreshing as well.

Sabrina and partner: WEEK ONE!!! The best Cha-Cha the judges had EVER seen on the show!!!!!

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Maybe I should actually venture out into the world, the world of regular dating. You know, the world where you don't need an internet connection to meet someone, the world where you meet someone and hear their voice at the same time, the world where the first meeting is already out of the way. It sounds effin great right about now! I'm so tired of this whole routine, looking at profiles, updating my own, talking on the phone about meeting (but never actually doing it).

So I was thinking, maybe I should try to visit a new place every week. On my own or with friends, whatever. I'm not sure of where I'd go every week, or even if I'd have the time to do any of this. Right now it's just a thought, but I do need to get out more.

Monday, October 29, 2007

At the PC Halloween party one of my classmates, Kinzie, told me that it's impossible for you to make a tight fist when you first wake up. I've been trying to do it ever since. I think I even try when I'm turning over mid-sleep (thanks Kinzie, I really needed another weird thing to do while I'm sleeping). I've found it to be true when you first wake up the tight fist ain't happenin' (it takes a few tries to tighten up).

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Didn't happen, AGAIN - for the third weekend in a row.As far as I'm concerned 3 strikes and you're out.

We were supposed to meet today - he never told me what time he wanted to meet and when I asked him yesterday, he had no idea of what he wanted us to do, but he hinted around at doing something at the park (during the day).

Friday, October 26, 2007

First off, let me say that I totally wasn't gonna do a Friday Rap Up today. Thic talked me into it; so everybody thank him. I was just gonna show bloopers (which I'll now save for another lazy day).

Okay, I've realized that even though I've cut back dramatically on my fast food intake, I haven't been eating great foods at home. Just because it's home cooked, doesn't mean it's good for you. I have at least 4 hotdogs everyday (two in my breakfast sandwich, and two in my dinner sandwich - teehee) and I know that can't be healthy. In addition, I put cheese on EVERYTHING. I gotta stop that. And mostly everyone knows that Koolaid is my drank! First quarter when everyone was sipping on tea and coffee trying to stay awake, I had a thermos full of Tropical Punch Koolaid.

Well, something has gotta give, other than the waistband on all my jeans. I gotta diet y'all.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

And I've been rocking this semi twist-out, wet-n-wavy without the wet look. It's alright, I just don't know how to keep it up (twist it every night?). I've been reading those darn Nappturality forums until my eyes Apple Shift Q (log off, for my non-Mac users). I have purchased some Kroger Olive Oil (extra virgin) and some more good stuff for my hair. I almost bought the damn flavored olive oil. I would've been walking around school smelling like Basil and Herbs. Can we say learning experience?

I told y'all I would try to post an old picture of me so that you could see how my hair looked before I started relaxing it. Looks like there's a wave there, but sadly no curls. It may have changed a little in almost 20 years of chemically treating it - we'll see.

I don't know y'all. Something is up. Remember when I told y'all that he was really nice and sweet? Well, that hasn't changed one single bit. It's just that we've been talking on the phone for almost 3 weeks now and we haven't seen each other yet. In my many months of experience in online dating I've never run across this scenario. Usually guys can't wait to meet in person. Strongman, though, is taking his sweet time trying to see me. The first week I wanted to meet up with him at the Taste of Atlanta, he was busy. The next weeked was his college homecoming, busy. And now, coming up on weekend numero tres plans are very iffy. He's saying we're definitely going to see each other, but I'm not holding my breath.

I really don't want to give up on this one though. He's so sweet to me; if he was just okay on the sweetness scale he woulda been gone a long time ago. But if we don't meet this weekend he'll be where? To the left, to the left.

In addition: He could be married with like 5 kids or something...geez.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

...was the day of random people calling me.The ex called. Left a message saying something about my rap skills - whatever.

Then, "Mr. Long Name" called. I haven't talked to him since I wrote that blog (over a month ago), his message was extra pitiful, so I thought I'd put it here for everyone's enjoyment:

"Yeah wassup with you, this is Darnell. I've been hittin' you up, but I give up...cuz you never pick up. So, I'll never call you again, it was nice talking to you, you had good conversation at first, but I understand where this is going. So uhm, you have a good life, I wish you the best in school, I wish you the best with God, and I wish you the best in life. Alright Tracie, peace out."

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Today my classmate Ty and I went to Dance 411 for a beginner hip hop class called Juice. As you can see from the picture we were hella excited and ready to be all Hippy and Hoppy. On the way there we even sang a little diddy that went something like, "We going to hiiiiiip hop, it's gon be fuuuuunnnnn, and we gon liiiiiiiike it..."

Upon arriving we paid our first time class fee of $10 (not bad I must say) and waited for the Reggae class to end. And that's when I saw her - a girl walked in with the EXACT hair I want. It was natural, curly, wild, long, and uber-cute; turns out, she was our teacher. Before class started, Ty and I were kind of just standing around while all the younger, more agile dancers gyrated to the music. Some people were talking, some were stretching, some were biting their nails and smiling nervously (uhhh, that would be Ty and me). We warmed up and the teacher (I think her name was Mia) had us doing crazy push ups and ab work. My energy was already spent before we had learned a single step.

The dance was hella difficult; it involved scoops, knee sliding, kicks, pointing and all sorts of other dancy-goodness. Ty and I held in there (in the back of course) trying not to look too elderly and out of shape amongst all those youngins. She wouldn't allow the air conditioning to be turned on, she said, "Y'all supposed to be dancers, you're supposed to be sweating." I begged to differ. We sweat so much, my pores are exhausted. And as the class continued, Mia's clothes got fewer and fewer. When class first started she had on two shirts, a scarf, sweatpants, etc. That scarf got thrown probably 5 seconds into class. The first shirt maybe 10 minutes into class, and the second shirt left her shortly after. Now she had on a bikini top and sweatpants. I wish it were me. So not only did she have the hair I want, but the body as well. We learned the dance in sections and kept adding on until we'd learned the whole thing. Then she broke the class up into two groups, Ty and I were group 1. We went back and forth doing the entire routine alternating groups (somewhere in the middle of that Ty disappeared). I loved and hated it at the same time because I wanted to get everything down and some moves just weren't clicking with me. I finally spotted Ty, almost in the fetal position in the corner. He'd given up on life. He said he felt light-headed, and really I did too - but something made me keep going. He joined back in for the cool down though. The class totally kicked our butts. Most of the folks in class stuck around for "Advanced Juice" which followed, but Ty and I hauled ass out of there. And remember how happy and excited we were before class? Well here's us after class:All and all, I don't think the class was beginner level. But it was fun nonetheless. It was what we wanted: an hour of hip-hoppy goodness - we just didn't expect to be so close to death afterwards. Dance 411 has so many fun-sounding classes on their schedule (Salsa, Jazz, ATL Crank, Pole Dancing, etc) that I can't go to because I have school. But the weekend ones I can (and will) definitely try out. For bustin' my butt, they get an A++.

Earlier this week I told you all that I am now starting my natural hair journey. I will be no longer relaxing my hair. I've received mixed reviews; some people say DON'T DO IT, while others are excited about the change. Me, I'm excited. I found an old picture of me at one of my birthday parties (pre-relaxer) and my hair was absolutely gorgeous. It had more of a wave pattern than a curl and it just flowed all the way down my back. The picture is pretty dark so I'll have to try to lighten it up in Photoshop or something and I'll post it on here for y'all to see.

Anyway, hopefully those of you who see me on a regular basis will excuse my upcoming trip to NappyLand and embrace the new hairstyles I will be trying. Laughing and pointing is not acceptable (applauding, however, is).

Monday, October 15, 2007

I've decided to do it. I'm going natural. I'm going to grow out this chemically straightened hair of mine and let my natural, god-given, curl pattern show through. A lot of people (Kuh Reel Yuh, Lynn, etc.) don't think I'm actually gonna go through with this. Let's talk about this, I did just meet a guy; he probably likes my hair as is. However, I told him that I'm thinking about cutting my hair off and starting over; he sounded concerned, but not so much that if we were to become something more it would pose a problem. Either way, I've decided that my last relaxer will be my last relaxer.

I'm a bit nervous about this transition though, just because I haven't seen my natural hair since 5th grade. I just remember my hair being long and thick and not wanting a comb anywhere near me. I don't really know why, when my 10 year high school reunion is coming up, when I just met a really nice guy, why I would even venture into this natural hair journey now? I'm doing it, and I don't know what I'll be looking like for the next couple of months, but I'll definitely keep you posted.

I wish I had my MooMoo's natural curls:

But ultimately, I want my hair to look like this: Which may be a feat considering that Tracee Ellis Ross is mixed. But you see my MooMoo's hair, I got some mixin' going on somewhere in the chain. I just hope it shows, teehee.

When I get further along, I will start a natural hair journal on Fotki, I'll be sure to post the link on here as well. For now, here's my 4 weeks past a relaxer picture:Nappdom, here I come.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Today as I was driving on Peachtree Street headed to FedEx/Kinkos I saw hundreds of women (and men) walking, wearing pink. I knew it had to be a breast cancer walk of some kind. Young women, old women, women with pink pom poms, hats, and balloons even, were all walking for a cure with so much pride.

And as I was waiting for the light to change, watching these women walk, I started to cry. I mean, not the little cute cry you do at weddings, no, this cry was like I was 5 years old and some mean man just stole my candy. See, my gramma lost her life to breast cancer, and I have two aunties currently fighting the battle. It's really rough in my family, yet I've done nothing. When I got back home, I googled to see which walk I encountered, it was the Susan G. Komen 3 day walk. I'm saying it now, almost out-loud, I'm walking the 3-day walk next year, if I have insurance (because you have to have insurance to register). I want to do this for every woman in my family (myself included), so that this disease doesn't take us away so prematurely.

Most of all, though...I'm doing it for the woman who told me I could do anything, for the woman who flew around all around the country for every grandchild's graduation (kindergarten to college), for the woman who called me crying because she was too sick to come to my college graduation, for the woman whose strength I hope I've inherited, for the woman who was the backbone of our entire family, for the woman I will never get over; I'm doing it for you, gramma.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

I recently realized that I haven't mentioned a lot of the man drama I've been going through while online dating in Atlanta on my blog. These guys are in fact characters in the story of my life (not major players, more like extras); let me introduce you:

"Ding Ding Guy" - We met for drinks at a nearby restaurant, had a blast. He seemed really cool and we talked so long we closed one restaurant down and decided to go to a bar for some extra talk time. I had a drink, he had a drink. When he drove me back to my car (parked at the other restaurant's parking lot), we talked more. I remember saying, "I'm so glad you're a regular guy." We parked and as I was telling some story I was looking out of the passenger side window, when I turned back to face him, his ding ding had emerged! (And had the nerve to be glistening in the moonlight!) I said, "What the hell are you doing?" He replied, "Aw c'mon girl, you know you want this." I ran.

"Rape Victim" - I only talked to this guy a couple of times on the phone, but he made me laugh (which I love) so I thought he had potential. On our second conversation, though, he told me he had something important to talk to me about, uh-oh. Well, apparently last year he was drunk at a party and a girl that wanted to be with him took advantage of his drunken state and "raped" him. And now there's a baby, which he doesn't believe is his, but is "too busy" to get a test done. AND after telling this whole story he had the audacity to say, "...but I'm drama free."

The losers are plentiful, but on the flip side there may soon be a good character added to my story. For now I'll call him "Strongman." Looking back, I haven't really met any "nice guys" online. They all seem damaged a bit - cocky, arrogant, gross, or angry because they "shouldn't be single." But this guy, "Strongman," approached me with respect from the very beginning. We've talked on the phone a couple of times already and I don't think there hasn't been a conversation between us where I haven't said, "Awwwww..." - because he's always saying sweet things. He's just super nice (plus he gets my silly side) and it feels good to finally feel excited about a man again. I guess I have a crush. Hopefully you'll hear more (good things) about my "Strongman." (insert girly giggle here)

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Yesterday my friend Julie and I went to Inman Park to take pictures for one of my classes. She was my tour guide because I really don't know the area very well. After taking this picture under the Krog Street bridge, that man (in the picture) approached me. He was highly upset that I had just taken his picture. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Man: (quasi-Jamaican accent) You're not supposed to take pictures of people without their permission.

Me: Oh, sorry. I'm just trying to get the bridge...

Man: (interrupts) I swear to God, you're not supposed to take pictures of people close up because someone could recognize me and you did not ask my permission.

Me: Well, I'm only a student; this won't be in a magazine or anything.

Man: You're not supposed to take a picture so close, you're supposed to be far away so no one can tell who I am; I swear to God I heard that before.

Me: I took it from far away, you can't tell who you are.

Man: I swear to God! You're not supposed to do that; Muslims believe you can go to hell for that because the picture takes your soul.

Me: Okay, sorry for sending you to hell.

Man: Don't do it no more.

Then Julie and I had this exchange:

Me: Why do black folks have to act like that with other black folks? I can't stand that.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Yesterday was my first day of 4th quarter. It was cool, I had a night class but it rocked! It was Motion (After Effects), and we're learning how to make animated videos for broadcast. The first thing we did was to make this little square move around; I clapped when I saw my square turning all kinds of flips! It was so exciting. Oh, and I got my critique scores back and I finally received my first 10! I was happy about that.

*My first day of school shirt*

In other news, the night before school started I had this wonderful dream that a new guy (a sexy, funny, handsome, perfect-for-Tracie guy) named Deon had started at PC. In the dream I went to school to register and instantly noticed him through all of the people packed into Los Angeles (our classrooms are named after cities). He was talking to another new guy, but never let his eyes leave me. As I was standing in line, he approached me, introduced himself, and we talked. He was a writer, so we had a lot to talk about. He asked me out for lunch and I agreed, but I told him we probably wouldn't be able to go out much more after his first class with Miss Sylvia.Somehow the dream fast-forwards (you know how dreams do that - or maybe I've forgotten some parts) to me helping him cut paper for Miss Sylvia's class at his place, which looked a whole lot like my place.

My dream was cut short when I received a text message from Karelia saying that her new roommate, Tim, whom I've already met and beaten at Scrabble (teehee) was the only new black guy this quarter. Damn. Where was Deon? My friend Tyrese says he probably changed his mind and went to Circus (Creative Circus). Meredith said maybe he's not a student, but like a new janitor or something, thanks Mer.

I always say I'm a little psychic, but it's probably more wishful thinking than psychic ability. Sometimes I can predict something and it happens, but sometimes I guess it's just a dream. I was once so convinced that I was about to win the lottery (Mega Millions) that when I didn't win and realized that I had to go back to work, I was hella sad, damn near depressed. My MooMoo sent me flowers the next day at work saying "It's okay you didn't win the lottery, maybe next time." She's the only person who gets me.